


All The Ships Are Lost on the River

by signalbeam



Category: Persona 4
Genre: Community: badbadbathhouse, Friendship, Gen, OC, Post-Canon, Scoring a hot stud
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-20
Updated: 2010-01-20
Packaged: 2017-10-17 16:06:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/178567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/signalbeam/pseuds/signalbeam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-game, Teddie takes Namatame to a bar and helps him score a hot chick. Kind of. Sort of. It depends on how hard you squint.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All The Ships Are Lost on the River

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the badbadbathhouse prompt: _post-canon, Teddie tries to help Taro Namatame score a hot chick._ Title from Hem's "The Meeting Place."

There weren’t a lot of bars in Inaba, and Ishibaya worked at the best one of the lot. Not that it made it a good one, either, but she thought it was okay. A lot of regulars, a lot of drinks, not a lot of whining. The Dyed Mountains might have the lamest name of any bar on this side of Japan, but at least the drinks had a bit of a kick. As bartender, she was more or less obligated to make sure of that.

There were two new patrons today, both men that Ishibaya recognized from around town. The first a man with wide, but hunched shoulders. There was a familiar heaviness weighing down in his eyes and brow, a—she didn’t know how to put it. A lack of light, maybe. He looked familiar, but in a way that didn’t lend for easy recognition. It took almost half an hour for her to place who he was: the kidnapper, the psycho, the weirdo. He had ordered a glass of water, and so far only looked as though he was contemplating the depth of the water in nanometers. Freak.

The second patron came with the kidnapper. He worked in Junes inside that weird suit. Ishibaya's mother liked him. Said that he was a nice, courteous young man. Probably got kidnapped, too, Ishibaya thought with a nasty twist of the mouth, and worked on polishing the bar a little harder. The Junes guy (fuck buddy, son, kidnapped young boy, who knew these days. She sure didn’t) looked too young to be drinking _anything_ at a bar except for maybe club soda. He sparkled. And was leaning over the counter and beaming at Ishibaya.

“I’m Teddie,” he said. “And I’m here to order some things for my pal! He says he wants an oblivion.”

“We don’t have that kind of stuff here,” Ishibaya said.

“But he said he wanted to drown in oblivion, so you’ll have to make a lot of it!”

“… I told you, we don’t have that kind of stuff here.” Ishibaya sucked air in through her teeth, and pulled out a shot glass. “You want it? You got it. Oblivion: preserved baby octopus at the bottom, an ounce of Green Chartreuse and four ounces of vodka, another baby octopus for flavoring, a slice of raw bacon for garnish, and we’ll top that off with some more of this motherfucking green shit.” She handed it to—Teddie, was that his real name or his ‘I’m smashed’ name?—and said, “You better give it to your pal over there, got that? None of that ‘I’m getting it for my friend, whoops, it’s in my mouth’ nonsense.”

“Uh-huh!” said Teddie. “Thanks, babe!”

 _Babe_?

Ishibaya watched as the man sniffed the drink, and then chugged it down. He then sprayed the drink on the table and on his chin and nose.

Suited him just fine, for being a kidnapper. Ishibaya made herself a kamikaze and sank it down. The man came staggering to the bar, drink in hand.

“What,” said the man, “ _is this_.”

“You asked for an oblivion,” Ishibaya said. “Ted over there got you one. Liked it?”

“It’s awful,” he said. “Awful. Just awful.”

“Uh-huh,” Ishibaya said. "Well, not like you know any better, right?"

The man looked over at Ishibaya with a slow-changing, strangely fearful tension scrunching his brow and pulling his mouth down. And then he said, “Do you know who I am?”

“Sure do. Kidnapped that Dojima girl.” Ishibaya clicked her tongue a few times and said, “Sure caused some real trouble.”

“… I’ve changed now,” Namatame said. “I wasn’t… myself when I did that.”

“Uh-huh,” Ishibaya said. “Sure.”

“I’d like to order another drink,” Namatame said, only for Teddie to pop up right next to Namatame’s elbow.

“Taro-chi, please,” Teddie said. “You’re going about this all wrong. You need to make sweet, sweet verbal love to her. Babe, what’s your name?”

“I have a name tag. Can't read kanji?”

“Please ignore him,” Namatame said. “He’s… young.”

“Baby, baby, _baby_ —”

“… He brought me here because he thought talking to someone would cheer me up,” Namatame said.

Oh, damn. She was going to get his entire life story now.

“I don’t know where he came from,” said Namatame. “I was shopping for some…” His hand shook, slightly. “… I was shopping when I remembered Mayumi…”

“Come on, Taro-chi! You shouldn’t set up that kind of comparison right away!” Teddie said. “She’s a new target! You gotta act like it! How would you feel if I said that Yosuke feeds me better than you do?”

“You would be right if you said that,” Namatame said. “I haven’t… I haven’t been able to cook for myself in weeks. All the food goes bad in the fridge. Everything spoils…” Ishibaya, despite herself, poured him a shot of vodka, and pushed it to him. Namatame took a look at the drink, smiled wanly at her, and drank it sip by sip. What was _wrong_ with him, Ishibaya wondered. The guy was a total loon. After half of the glass was gone, he let out a sigh and murmured, “To Mayumi” and drowned the rest of it down.

“Taro-chi…” Teddie, for whatever reason, looked genuinely sorry. He pulled up a stool for himself and Namatame, and asked, very seriously, for a napkin. He dabbed at Namatame’s chin, wiping away what was left of the awful oblivion drink. “Come on, chin up! There will always be other hot studs to pick up. Like this one over here.”

“Ah,” said Namatame.

“And what you did wasn’t so bad! Nana-chan’s still alive! She says she wants to meet you—”

“More,” Namatame said, this time to Ishibaya. “The same as before.”

“You’d better be paying for this,” Ishibaya said, refilling Namatame’s shot glass. “You’re a lightweight, aren’t you?”

“The only thing I ever drank at the office was beer,” Namatame said. “Beer and good wine when the boss was happy. Bad wine when I lost Mayumi. Bad wine when Misuzu left me. Bad wine when… when those kids…” He let out a shuddering sigh, and drained the glass. “You never realize how far you’ve fallen until you realize the only friend you have lives with the boy who wants you dead, and when your own father thinks you’re mentally unfit to run the business. At this rate, he’ll never retire.”

Another customer came up to the bar and ordered something to drink. Ishibaya poured Namatame some more vodka in hopes that it’d get him to shut up. No luck. Namatame, unbidden, continued to talk.

“A wife and a mistress,” he said, with an empty laugh. “That’s the kind of luxury I had. And now…”

“So you were a philandering jerk who got what was coming to him?”

“… Yes, I did. I was… very misguided. I didn’t know what I was doing…”

“Everyone says that,” Ishibaya said.

“I hurt so many people. They’ve all forgiven me—at least, they say they’ve forgiven me. Some of them… they leave things for me, through him. Flowers and food. It’s the best thing I’ve eaten, every time.”

“Aww, Taro-chi, that’s because Kanji makes it all!” Teddie said. “You should’ve seen the things Yuki-chan and Chie-chan made!”

“I’m sure it’d be wonderful, even if it was inedible.”

“I don’t know. Chie-chan asked me to taste her food before, and it was just awful!”

“Namatame sighed again. And then he said, “More, please.”

“You sure?” Ishibaya said. “Not my problem if you end up getting hit by a car.”

“I’ll be fine,” he said. “I just want something to drink.”

“Well, have something to eat, too,” Ishibaya said. She peered at the menu and said, “We have bacon, some beef bowls, and I got instant noodles in a box.”

“I don’t need to eat anything.” Namatame stood up, uncertainly, and said, “Do you like your job?”

“Well enough,” Ishibaya said, refilling Namatame’s glass. Then she drank it before he could wrap his fingers around it. “I get to drink all I want, the people don’t try to talk to me, and the pay will get me through school.”

“I see,” Namatame said. He looked mournfully over at his cup. Then, figuring that he wasn’t going to get anything more, he said, “Thank you for listening to me.”

“Sure,” she said. “If you say so.”

"About the payment…"

"I'll take a rain check," she said.

“We’re not staying?” Teddie said. “But she’s so pretty!”

“I’m dressed like a punk rocker from the eighties,” said Ishibaya. “You might want to reconsider that opinion.”

“Yep! You look ghastly.”

“Why you little—”

Namatame grabbed onto Teddie’s shoulder, spun him away from the bar, and said, “Enough of that.”

“But—”

“Enough. There are… always more women in the world than you’ll know what to do with.”

“Ohh. You have a point! After all, you scored lots of chicks by throwing them into the TV.”

Both of them were definitely smashed. Ishibaya wiped off the spot where they had been sitting, threw away the napkin Teddie had left behind, and called, “Be safe” when they reached the door. Namatame turned to her slowly, his eyes crinkling at the corners, and left into the night without saying a word.


End file.
